Mustang Daddy - A Single Daddy, Small Town Second Chance Romance

by Sienna Parks

  Tears fall from her eyes, and all I want to do is hold her and tell her everything is going to be alright.

  “There are three people in our relationship, Addi. You, me… and Gavin. You can’t live your life expecting every guy to be like him. He was a dick that didn’t deserve you. I’m the guy that would throw himself under a bus, rather than hurt you like he did. I would give up everything I have to be with you, to have you trust me; to have you trust that what we have is special.”

  She takes a step toward me but I can’t let her touch me, not just now.

  “You’re ripping my heart out all over again.” My voice is thick with the hurt forming a ball in my throat, closing off my air supply. “You promised me. You asked me to take the leap with you and trust you. I did that. You are the one that can’t be trusted, not me. I’ve never given you any reason not to trust me. You on the other hand, have pushed me away, and run away from me more times than I can count. I’m not made of steel, Addi. You can’t just keep doing this to me and expect me not to break.”

  I scrub my hand over my stubble, struggling to contain my devastation.

  “You walked away from me when I put my heart on the line for you, and it damn near killed me. I can’t trust you not to do it again, not after your clear lack of faith in us tonight. I need to walk away from this before you break me beyond what I can come back from. I can’t become that guy. I don’t want to be that guy. I’m going to be a father.”

  I close the distance between us, pulling her close, kissing her forehead. I reach into my jacket pocket to pull out her birthday present; still clinging to her as I find her hand and close it around the box. “If you ever doubt where my heart and my loyalties lie, look at this, Tesoro. You ARE my heart, but you can’t be trusted to cherish it the way I cherish yours.” I try to pull away, but she holds on tight. “I need to go. I’m sorry.” I pry her hands from around my waist. “I’ll be in touch soon to help you get organized for the baby. Anything you need, you just have to ask. You will always be the love of my life, Addi. Nothing will ever change that. I’m just hoping that one day, you realize it.”

  She lets me leave without a word. She doesn’t put up a fight. She has never put up a fight for me, and that’s part of the problem.

  ADDI

  Carter and I haven’t seen each other since the night of my birthday party; since I let him just walk out the door without asking him to stay. I don’t know why I did that - I’ve asked myself every day since it happened. I love him more than anything in the world, but I let the part of me that is ruled by my past, by Gavin, take over. I just shut down.

  When Carter left, I sat for at least an hour staring into nothingness, before I opened his gift. The most stunning locket I’ve ever seen, engraved with our initials on either side of a gorgeous red ruby. Inside – a picture of us together in Verona, and one of our baby. It’s the most thoughtful, heartfelt gift anyone has ever given me.

  I immediately put it on, and I haven’t taken it off since. When I touch my hand to the cool metal, I remember his words to me - If you ever doubt where my heart and my loyalties lie, look at this, Tesoro. You ARE my heart, but you can’t be trusted to cherish it the way I cherish yours.

  I know he’s right. I don’t deserve his heart. I’ve done nothing but batter, bruise, and break it beyond repair, since the moment we met. I’ve cried so many tears, I’m surprised that my eyes haven’t dried out yet. From one day to the next I go from inconsolable, uncontrollable sobbing, to a steely determination to win Carter back, to earn his trust, and make myself worthy of his love again.

  I’ve wanted to pick up the phone and call him so many times, a text, an email, anything to be in contact with him, and every time, I stop myself, unsure of what to say, scared that he will reject me, that he’ll dash what little hope I’m hanging onto, that I can make things right.

  After six days of staring at my phone, I finally plucked up the courage to text and ask him to come to my OB/GYN appointment with me. He was the one that suggested we go out for lunch first and have a talk about where we go from here. I know he meant what we’re going to do about the baby, how it will work because we’re not a couple, but I’m hoping that I will be able to change that, because this past week has been unbearable. I’ve missed him every minute of every day. I have some serious freaking groveling to do, but I will do anything it takes to make things right between us. I really messed up last week; I let my insecurities get the better of me, and I punished Carter for Gavin’s mistakes… again.

  I’m nervous as hell about seeing Carter today. After our fight last week and our break up, I feel like this is my last chance. Maybe that ship has already sailed, but I need to at least try.

  I’ve not been feeling so great since I got up this morning, but I’m putting it down to nerves. I haven’t been able to eat anything, worrying about what I’m going to say to Carter when I see him. I’ve been getting shooting pains in my stomach, but they pass quickly. I’m not particularly worried about it, I’m thirty weeks along now and the midwife said I could start getting Braxton Hicks contractions around this time.

  I’m excited to let Carter feel the baby kicking. It’s been a quiet little thing for the most part, but today it’s kicking the hell out of me and I can actually see my belly moving. It’s amazing and mind-blowing, and I want to share it with him. I want to share everything with him.

  Time seems to drag this morning. I’m ready way too early, hair and make-up flawless, a pretty maternity dress that accentuates my bump, just the way Carter likes it. The only thing left for me to do is take my daily pregnancy vitamins. I head into the bathroom to get them from the cabinet, when an agonizing pain rips through my body.

  I manage to grab hold of the edge of the sink, curling my fingers around it so tight that my knuckles turn white. I’m trying to breathe through the pain, but it’s stealing my breath away as I try to take even the tiniest of gasps. I feel like a red-hot knife has been thrust into my abdomen, and is being dragged from one side of me to the other.

  My vision goes blurry as my knees buckle under the intense pain, and I drop to the floor, twisting onto my side, trying anything to alleviate this unbearable torture that is wreaking havoc on my body. I don’t have my phone with me, it’s sitting on the kitchen counter. I know I need to get to it and call Carter, but I can’t move. Tears stream down my face as I rock myself, breathing through the overwhelming agony.

  My brain starts playing tricks on me, taking me back four years to the last time I felt anything even close to this level of pain. I can hear Gavin’s voice, cold, cruel, and evil – taunting me, scaring me, threatening me. I snap back into the present wish a gush of warmth between my legs. I can see crimson liquid running down my legs and onto the floor tiles; a stark, terrifying contrast to the cold white marble.

  “Oh God, No. Please, not again. Not our baby. Not Carter’s baby.”

  With every move I make, there’s a searing, burning agony, crushing me from the inside, but my instincts kick in and I force myself up onto my hands and knees, my body shaking against this brutal internal assault. I slowly crawl toward the bathroom door, but the energy I expel to make it 6 ft. to the entrance is too much for me, and I slump against the heavy wooden door frame. I shift my gaze to where I’ve just come from, and all I see are thick streaks of dark red blood.

  An anguished sob rips from my throat, staring at the evidence that something is very wrong. My baby is in danger and needs my help. I cling to that thought, using it to dull the excruciating agony, channeling what little energy I have left into moving my muscles, making my arms and legs work together to pull me out into the hallway.

  The distance between where I am, and the kitchen, seems like an insurmountable task; my phone, high up on the counter, an impossible goal. The feeling of blood trickling down my legs is a constant reminder that I need to keep moving; I need to get help; I need Carter.

  Every move forward is a victory, every look back, a defeat. The trail of blood behind me
is petrifying. I’m starting to feel drowsy, my head dipping, my consciousness teetering on the edge. I can’t see straight, through the torrent of tears that are coursing down my cheeks.

  “Carter. Please. I need you.”

  Through my silent pleas, I know that he will be expecting me, he’ll wonder why I haven’t shown up. The fear that he’ll think I just ran away the same way I always do, is a devastating blow.

  “Please, have faith in me.”

  I am hoping beyond hope that he will come to my rescue. That he will come looking for me.

  I hear my cell ringing, vibrating against the counter top; I’m so close, and yet so far away from the help on the other end of the line. I feel like every ring is mocking me, provoking me, making me angry that I can’t reach it.

  “Goddammit. Why is this happening to me?”

  When I finally make it to the kitchen, I’m hysterical, laughing and crying that I’ve made it, but I need to take a moment to gather some strength. I need to stand up and grab my phone. I try to steady my breathing, but my heart is racing. It’s going too fast, but I don’t know how to slow it down.

  The smeared trail of blood behind me causes bile to rise into my throat, a physical manifestation of my horror and fear. I manage to pull myself into a sitting position, my back against the cabinets, my head resting against the hard, unforgiving wood. I close my eyes, just for a second, trying to focus on my breathing, but when I try to open them again, I feel like I have weights attached to my lids, making it almost impossible for me to lift them.

  “Carter.”

  My world starts to spin, fading in and out, my body slowly slumping toward the floor. In my head, I’m screaming at myself to get up, knowing that every downward movement is taking me further away from my phone, further away from the help that I so desperately need, further away from him.

  The apartment is so quiet. I’m all alone. I can feel the life draining from my body, and I am helpless to do anything about it. My body is consumed by an overwhelming cold, a bone deep, chilling exhaustion. I try to fight against it, but I can’t. I’m just one woman, and I don’t have any fight left. Maybe if I let myself rest for a little while… just a few minutes – I will have enough energy to get up.

  I curl my hands around my stomach; my last act of protection.

  “It’s ok, baby. Daddy will be here soon; daddy will find us. I love your daddy so much. Daddy will save you….”

  I feel a rush of relief as I give in to the cold darkness. The pain dissipates and my body stops shaking. I can feel my breathing grow shallow and my heart rate slowing down. The single thought that keeps me from letting it completely consume me, is the image of Carter, holding our baby in his arms.

  I want to see that… I want to be a part of that… I want to live…

  THUD! THUD! THUD!

  “ADDI!”

  CARTER

  Addi was supposed to meet me an hour ago. I waited in the restaurant like an idiot, just hoping that she would turn up with some crazy story about why she was late. Instead, I stared at my phone, willing it to ring, while the waiter looked at me as if I’d had a death in the family. This is exactly what I’m talking about, this is why we can’t work – I can’t even trust her to show up! I love her so much, and I keep waiting for her to prove me wrong, but it’s becoming glaringly obvious that she doesn’t want to trust me, and I can’t trust her.

  I take a cab over to her apartment, running through every possible scenario of why she would blow me off like this. I’m so pissed right now, but I’m trying to stay calm because she’s pregnant, and I love her more than life itself.

  When I arrive at her building and step inside the elevator, I feel a sense of urgency, I just need to see her… now.

  I stand knocking on the door for a few minutes, thinking maybe she hasn’t heard me. “Addi. Are you in there? It’s me. You never showed up for lunch. I was worried… and fucking annoyed! The appointment with the OB/GYN is in forty minutes.”

  Still nothing.

  “Goddammit, Addi. I don’t want to play games with you. I thought we were past this.”

  I can hear something. It’s faint, but I’m sure I can hear her voice. I press my ear to the door.

  “Addi.”

  “Help… me.” Holy fuck. She’s in there.

  “Open the door, baby.”

  “Help.” I can barely hear her over my own pulse, hammering in my eardrums. I try to open the door but it’s locked.

  “Can you get to the door?”

  Silence...

  “Stay back from the door, Addi. I’ll need to break it down to get to you.”

  Silence...

  Nothing else matters except getting to her. I stand back, readying myself to kick it in with every ounce of strength I have in me. One almighty kick and the door bursts inwards, the wood splintering where my foot makes contact.

  I immediately scan the apartment, looking for Addi, and that’s when I see a trail of crimson.

  “Addi?”

  The red marks seem to have come from the hallway and they disappear behind the counter. I run over to the kitchen, dread and fear choking me from the inside out.

  “OH, FUCK.”

  I drop down onto the floor.

  “SHIT. Addi, baby, can you hear me? Talk to me.”

  She’s completely surrounded by the deep red liquid pooling on the floor; covered in it from the waist down. I’ve never seen a person so pale. I try to pull her close to me, but she’s a dead weight, unconscious and completely limp in my arms.

  “Addi, baby, you need to wake up.”

  Her head slumps down onto her chest.

  My brain finally kicks in and I grab my phone from the inside pocket of my jacket to call 911.

  “I need an ambulance. My girlfriend is pregnant and she’s covered in blood, she’s unconscious and I can’t get her to wake up.” I quickly give them the address and they assure me that the paramedics will be with me in minutes.

  Sir, I need you to check for a pulse.

  This can’t be happening. She text me this morning. She was fine. My hand is shaking as I press two fingers to her throat, terrified that I might not feel a pulse. I’m so relieved when I feel the faintest flutter on my fingertips.

  “She’s alive, but her pulse is weak. Please, hurry.”

  I hang up the phone and scoop Addi’s fragile, blood stained body onto my lap, holding her close to my chest. She feels so cold. I scramble out of my suit jacket, careful not to move her too much. Draping it over her shoulders, I pull her tight against the warmth of my chest; stroking her hair, rocking back and forth trying to calm the panic – the complete and utter terror.

  I start rambling; talking to her in hopes that she’ll wake up and say something so ridiculous and completely Addi-like to me; and I can tell her how wrong I was, and that we need to be together, no matter what.

  “Stay with me, Tesoro. Mi stai spaventando ora. Ho bisogno che tu resti con me. [You’re scaring me now. I need you to stay with me.] You can’t leave me, baby.” I can feel her breath getting shallower as we wait for help to arrive.

  “I need you, baby, more than I need air. Tu sei tutto per me. Il sole, la luna, le stelle, e tutto il resto. [You are everything to me. The sun, the moon, the stars, and everything in between.] We’re supposed to be a family, Addi. You, me, and our baby.”

  I feel tears trickling down my face, dripping onto her beautiful hair as I cling to her.

  “Siamo tenuti a invecchiare insieme. Non puoi lasciare dietro di, Addi, io non ti lascerò. Tu sei mia e io sono tuo, per sempre. Io non sono pronto a dare che fino. Non posso. Abbiamo ancora molto da fare insieme il mio dolce, bella Tesoro.” [We’re supposed to grow old together. You can't leave me behind, Addi, I won't let you. You're mine and I'm yours, forever. I'm not ready to give that up. I can't. We still have so much to do together my sweet, beautiful treasure.]

  She lets out a long, labored breath, and I wait for her to breathe in, but it doesn’t come. This can’t
be happening. She can’t…

  I quickly lay her down on the cold tiles, pressing my ear to her chest, but I can’t hear a heartbeat.

  “FUCK. Please, don’t do this to me, Addi.”

  I quickly straddle her small frame, linking my hands together and locating the point on her chest where I know I need to start compressions. The room has become a vacuum. There is no sound, there is no air, and there is no… life.

  I start pumping her chest the way they teach you in first aid, stopping to breathe air into her lungs after thirty compressions. Her lips are turning blue, I can feel her slipping away, and with her… the life of our baby.

  “Please, baby. Please fight. Goddammit, Addi… you need to fight! This can’t be how it ends for us. The baby needs you Addi. I NEED YOU!”

  I keep up the compressions, praying to God that she will come back to me.

  “FUCKING BREATHE. HOLY SHIT… BABY… I NEED YOU TO… BREATHE. FOR. ME.”

  Time has stopped. Life has stopped.

  I feel an arm pulling on my shoulder. I shrug it off as I continue my efforts to get Addi’s heart started.

  “Sir. I’m a paramedic. Please, step aside and let me work on her. Let me help.”

  I turn to see the man talking to me; two others standing beside him with bags and boxes that might just bring her back.

  “I don’t know how long it’s been. She’s not breathing. She’s thirty weeks pregnant.”

  “Sir. I need you to move. Now.”

  I remove my bloodstained hands from her chest and slump down onto the floor beside her, letting them move in to try and bring her back to me.

  “Please. Please, help her. She’s… she’s… everything.”

  Time is ticking by in slow motion as I watch them try to revive my reason for breathing. I don’t think I take a single breath until I hear the words that give me a sliver of hope.

  “I’ve got a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there.”

  I grab her wrist, needing to feel the life pulsing through her veins. That tiny flutter is the best thing I have ever felt. She’s alive.